Long live Russell Westbrook

Oh, and the Lakers got sold again.

Good morning. Let's basketball.

Russell Westbrook, the most electric and electrifying player of his generation, has announced his retirement from the NBA. He did so in a video narrated by Michael B. Jordan.

Longtime readers will know that I've long been enamored and intrigued with Westbrook, both as a player and a personality. He just might be my favorite player to watch ... ever. The athleticism, fearlessness, skill level, relentlessness, joie de vivre, hater mentality, sense of humor, generosity – it's all a package of everything you want in an entertainer. Westbrook always, always entertained.

He had critics to be sure, and moments worth criticism. You don't get relentlessness and fearlessness without some ... aggressive shot-taking. You don't get the hilarious hater mentality without some interpersonal conflicts (in Westbrook's case, with certain members of the media). But overall: he shared his identity and gifts openly, and those that weren't prepared to accept them all couldn't appreciate the full genius.

The Grudge Season of 2016-17 remains among the most amazing displays of raw basketball rage and genius I've ever experienced.

It was clear from the earliest days in Oklahoma City that he could have a rich and memorable career, but even those glimpses undersold reality: he helped from one of the great could-have-been duos ever, started the trend of Oscar Robertson style triple-double machines in the modern NBA and built a sustainable prototype for hellcat point guards that in the past had always been mired with injury or style shifts. Fittingly for the city where he built his legend, Westbrook was a tornado personified, and he never compromised that energy to elongate his career or to fit a mold the outside world insisted he squeeze into. He unapologetically remained Russell Westbrook to the end, and that's beautiful.

I regret not going to see him one more time in Sacramento, wearing laundry I intermittently share, last season. By the time I realized it was getting to be too late, it was: the Kings shut him down in mid-March. My dad, the son of Okies, returned to the Sooner State in 2010 and became a devout believer in the Church of Westbrook. That's one of the few things we could talk about without arguing over the last decade: our shared love of Westbrook, the rise and fall and rise of the Thunder, basketball.

I visited my dad this March, as Westbrook's career was winding down. We talked about everything we hadn't. We also talked about Westbrook. My dad had mostly moved on to Shai Gilgeous-Alexander and Ajay Mitchell, and asked if Russ was still Russ. I told him he was, right to the bone, just a little older and a little slower, like we all are. My dad died a few days later. I'm so glad I don't have to regret not going to see him one more time, that I wasn't too late.

I would have really loved to call my dad yesterday and celebrate Russ one more time, and ask him how he was doing, and hearing him lie that everything was fine. Nothing lasts forever but memories. So it is with those we love, up close or from afar.

Flip or Flop: $10 Billion Sports Franchise Edition

In a true shocker, Mark Walter – who bought the Lakers at a $10 billion valuation a year ago – has agreed to sell the team to an investment group led by Josh Kushner (brother of the President's son-in-law) and legendary former Disney CEO Bob Iger for a valuation of $12 billion. This dude flipped one of the most famous sports franchises in the world for a 20% mark-up in a year!